


Pink

by samanddeansandwich



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Panty Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanddeansandwich/pseuds/samanddeansandwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all Rhonda Hurley's fault...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink

"This _fucking_ suit!” Dean tugged at his collar. They had been doing this FBI thing for years now, but he still wasn’t used to that _damn suit_. It was too tight in all the wrong places, made him sweat constantly, and clung to him awkwardly whenever he moved his arms. Somehow Sam didn’t seem to have the same problems. He looked…good? Yeah, ok, Dean could admit it. His little brother knew how to rock a suit.

Still though, either one of them would prefer to trade in their suits for the standard denim and flannel at this point.

"Why on earth do witches always leave such a mess?" Sam fussed.  
  
"Fucking witches" Dean grumbled under his breath as he climbed over the shambles of the crime scene. They had dressed in their FBI finest to gain access to what they thought was a simple witchcraft case, but the crime scene they found looked like the mother of all witches threw an orgy for a pack of rabid elephants.

"I guess we’re dealing with something a little more powerful than we thought" Sam remarked casually, as he dug through the rubble looking for evidence. It was a hot August day, and Dean had already bid farewell to his jacket and tie. Sam wasn’t far behind, shedding his jacket, loosening his tie and un-tucking his dress shirt before he stretched to reach something that hung on the chandelier and vaguely looked to be of organic origin.

That’s when Dean saw it, a tiny flash of hot pink. Barely noticeable, but unmistakable. Dean’s mouth went dry. Sam always wore his pants low on his hips in a way that exposed his carved hip bones and that tuft of hair rising up from his zipper. When he reached up high, his pants shifted ever so slightly and Dean saw it again, soft and pink and bright.

Dean couldn’t get the possibility that Sam might be wearing panties,  _pink panties_ , out of his head for the rest of the afternoon. Fucking _Rhonda Hurley_ , Dean thought to himself. That girl really did a number on him. And his _brother_ of all people, his _Sammy_ …Dean shook his head in an attempt to expel the thoughts out of his head and refocus on the case. It was no use. His mind swirled with visions of sweet (not so) little Sammy in ruffly pink lace, visions that by all accounts should be disturbing him, but instead left him palming his crotch while in vain trying to focus on the case at hand.

"Dean. Hey, earth-to-Dean! Anybody in there?" Sam had apparently been speaking to Dean for an extended period, a fact that Dean seemed to be utterly unaware of.

"Uh…yeah Sammy. Sure. Whatever." Dean replied absentmindedly

"You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?" Sam was making that face he always makes when he’s irritated with Dean, pursed lips and piercing eyes. Dean knew Sam meant to remind him of the serious nature of their discussion, remind him of the case, of what was at stake. Right now, it seemed to have the opposite effect, as all Dean could think of was bending Sam over in his lacy pink panties and spanking that sassy look right off his face. He wiped his clammy hands and swallowed, dry and hard, because that’s his _brother_ he was thinking of, his baby brother, his whole reason for living. Disgusted with himself, Dean attempted to change the subject:  
  
"Let’s just head back to the motel, witches creep me out, man. We can put the details together there." Hopefully a change in scenery would shift his thoughts to slightly more appropriate endeavors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Man, I need to get out of this monkey suit," Dean groaned, stripping off his jacket, shirt, and tie before he even crossed the threshold of the motel room. Sam sat behind him on the bed as Dean rifled through their duffel for something more "Dean" and less "Agent Angus."

"What's the matter, Sammy? You comfortable in these get-ups or something? How come you're just sitting there?"

"You're kind of hogging the bag, Dean. Maybe I can actually grab my clothes once you're done picking out your perfect outfit."

"And this is stopping you from getting out of that ridiculous suit, why?" Dean retorted, but before he could finish his sentence, he remembered the reason they were back in the motel room this early in the day. Usually, neither of them were particularly shy about undressing, it’s not like their life left them accustomed to any sort of privacy. But today, Sam seemed particularly reluctant to strip in front of his brother, and Dean knew exactly why.

Devious thoughts crept their way back into Dean’s mind. He spoke with a sly grin and wicked gleam in his eyes: “Since when are you so shy, Samantha?”

Dean wanted to tell himself that this was just good-natured brotherly ribbing, that he simply wanted to embarrass his brother for having a kink, but the slight twitch in his pants betrayed him. Still, his mind was filled with far too many filthy, delicious, _forbidden_ thoughts that there wasn’t really any room left for morality or rational thought.

“C’mon Dean, don’t be a dick,” Sam pleaded as he attempted to maneuver his way past Dean to the duffel bag.

“Not so fast there, little brother,” Dean taunted, placing himself in between the bag and Sam, not bothering to actually put on the clothes he had pulled out for himself.

“Fine. You wanna be childish about it? We can play this game,” Sam retorted as he lunged for his brother. Sam may have several inches on Dean, but Dean was a more experienced fighter. He easily deflected Sam and wrestled him to the bed. Sam wasn’t one to give up that quickly though, and he fought back, writhing and squirming against Dean’s body and affecting him in ways that little brothers really shouldn’t. Dean gained the upper hand again shortly though and pinned Sam to the bed with his knees.

“Let’s just see exactly what it is you’re so shy about,” Dean teased, as he tugged at Sam’s shirt.

“Dean! What are you doing?” Sam’s voice was alarmed in a way that didn’t seem entirely genuine.

“Oh come on Sammy, it ain’t nothin’ I’ve never seen before.”

“I don’t think you should…” Sam stammered, as Dean unzipped his pants. Dean knew what he would find, but seeing it like this, seeing his brother wearing pink frilly panties, stifled the breath in his lungs and all he could choke out was a throaty “Oh…”

“Go ahead, make fun of me. I know you’ll never let me live this down.” Sam seemed resigned to his fate.

“I’m not going to make fun of you,” Dean replied, earnestly, still pinning his panty-clad brother to the bed.

“You’re not?” Sam was incredulous.

“You remember Rhonda Hurley?” Dean asked.

“Yeah…you were pretty broken up about her, and you aren’t broken up about many girls, so I remember. But what’s that gotta do with this?” Sam asked in confusion.

“She…uh…made me try on her…you know,” Dean made a gesturing motion with his hands that seemed to refer to Sam’s undergarments. “And I liked it. So yeah, I’m not going to make fun of you.”

“You seem to be liking it now, too,” Sam remarked, motioning to the very prominent bulge in Dean’s boxers.

“Shit, dude. I’m sorry…I don’t know, I mean…” Dean muttered as he tried to lift himself off his brother.

Sam’s voice was dark and full of promise in return: “Don’t apologize. I don’t mind. I actually…like it.” With trepidation, Sam placed a probing hand on Dean’s thigh. If there ever was a time to act on his feelings, this was it.

“ _Fuck_ Sammy, this is bad. We can’t do this, this is not good. I mean, the really bad kind of not good…” Dean pleaded, not really wanting Sam to stop touching him.

“What if I want to be bad?” Sam replied deviously as he ran his hands up his brother’s bare chest. Dean threw his head back with a groan and rocked his hips. Sam was irresistible like this, tantalizing and slutty, seducing Dean with every word and every move.

“I punish things that are bad Sammy, you know that,” Dean groaned.

“Oh? I guess that means you’ll have to punish me.” Sam’s reply was a challenge Dean couldn’t pass up. He leaped off his brother and sat at the edge of the bed. “Get up,” Dean commanded flatly, and Sam did as he was told. “Lose the suit,” Dean’s voice was stern and controlled. Sam stood in front of him and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Dean watched him, panting shallow through parted lips, transfixed by the image of his brother, who seemed to be chiseled human perfection. Sam’s pants fell to his ankles and he stood there, nothing covering him but a single pair of ruffled lace hot pink panties. Dean was mesmerized by the sight, and when he didn’t respond, Sam hooked his thumbs into the panties in an effort to strip out of those, too.

“No, stop.” Dean ordered. “Get over here.” Sam approached his brother wordlessly, who was still sitting at the edge of the bed. Dean roughly yanked his brother down and positioned him across his lap.

“You wanna be punished? This is how I teach you a lesson about teasing me,” Dean growled, as he landed a broad palm flat and hard on his brother’s ass. Sam flinched and clutched at the covers, and Dean took a moment to appreciate the reddening handprint he left on his brother’s cheek. Sam arched his back in anticipation, but his brother didn’t seem poised to continue. He felt the sting of his brother’s hand on his ass, hot and tingling, and his cock was stiffening against his brother’s thigh.

“More, please…” He breathed.

“That’s it, baby boy. That’s it, beg for it. So pretty.” Dean’s voice was filled with awe, reverence and a kind of relief as he spanked his brother’s perky ass, slap after slap producing rosy cheeks that seemed to want to match the color of Sam’s panties. Sam writhed in Dean’s lap, grinding against his muscled thigh in a vain attempt to relieve the almost painful throbbing of his cock.

“Not so fast, baby boy,” Dean chided, “not until I say so.”

“Dean, _please_ , I need to, it feels so good.”

“Are you asking me for permission?”

“Dean…I need to come. Please…may I?” Sam pleaded.

“Such a good boy.” Dean’s voice was full of approval that went straight to Sam’s cock. “You’ve been good, you deserve a reward. Lay back for me Sammy, let me see you come.”

Sam crawled off his brother’s lap, ass red and stinging, as he reclined on the other bed directly across from his brother and began to palm his leaking cock through the sheer pink fabric. Dean stared back at him, eyes frozen on the filthy sight of his brother doing things he had no right to see. Sam stroked his length through the pink lace, thighs spread wide and head thrown back, losing himself in the sensation. Dean sat motionless on the other bed as Sam pleasured himself, his own cock leaking and poking out of his boxers. Urged on by the lusty look on his brother’s face, Sam lifted his knees to his chest and smoothly slid a long finger of his other hand into his hole. Dean groaned and bucked his hips, needing so badly to feel his brother on his own cock. Sam continued to stroke and finger himself, moaning Dean’s name as he came apart, long and thick spurts of white covering his belly and staining the frilly pink fabric.

When Sam’s consciousness finally returned to earth, his brother was still sitting on the other bed across from him. “What about you?” he asked, gesturing to Dean’s leaking cock that was still straining hard against the fabric of his boxers.

“That’s your job, Sammy,” Dean replied darkly, and Sam instantly dropped to his knees between Dean’s thighs. Dean didn’t like to admit it, but Sam always did know how to take care of him.


End file.
